Previously: Rose M. Weasley has officially faced her fourth (and she hopes, final) detention, but her troubles don't really stop there. Rumours are now circulating that imply she's a bit of scarlet-letter adorning harlot. Albus is still ignoring her.

Hello, hello again! A quick update considering the huge gap between the second and third. Thank you for any feedback and follows, it is always appreciated! Please feel free to leave your thoughts, I do love reading them - even if its just to say hi! Love H x

So even when your bones feel like weights, And it's hard to lift the smile on your perfect face, You can still find a perfect place - Rise, Selena Gomez

Saturday 9th September

7:30am

List of reasons Rose M. Weasley will not be leaving her bed today:

It is a Saturday and she reserves the right to act like a normal sixteen year old girl and do nothing but sleep

Friday nights (such as last night) mean that she has only had a few hours of sleep and needs reason #1 to recover

She only had a few hours of sleep due to a screaming fit between Kathryn Donahue and Piper Prewett (their friendship has certainly turned since yesterday morning)

Because of this lack of sleep, she is not energized enough to deal with the evident shitload of embarrassment she will face today

Said embarrassment will obviously be the fault of none other than S. Malfoy

Pregnant women (as she apparently is) need sleep

Pregnant women are also apparently incapable for playing Quidditch, therefore she has no reason to attend her 9:00am training

She just wants to, okay?

Saturday 9th September

7.41am

I did not want to face today. I know that I have said this nearly every morning since arriving to school this year, but I really, really mean it. My head hurts again, Albus still isn't talking to me, Bea is nowhere to be seen (the last time I checked) and stupid, stupid Malfoy refuses to help me out.

What exactly is there to get out of bed for?

The grumbling sound of my stomach dictates that, in fact, food may be a very valid reason but perhaps I could con Bea into bringing me some toast in bed. That is, if she ever reappears.

The dorm was awfully silent this morning which makes a nice change from last night. I don't know what was going on, but when I came upstairs from my detention things seemed to have divulged into chaos. I suppose it's nice to know I'm not the only one have a spectacularly awful first week.

Anyway, I came upstairs around 9 o'clock, following a rather extensive three and a half hour long dungbomb clean and was very ready for my bed. The shouting was so loud you could hear it from the staircase and it was so exciting that a few Second Years sat huddled around our dormitory door.

"Oi!" I said when I saw them, causing them to scuttle like ants back towards their own bedrooms. Honestly, as if Second Years didn't have enough of their own drama to worry about. Once they'd moved out of my way, I walked into the warzone.

"You horrible, awful, slimy, stupid bint!"

Our usually neat and tidy dorm room was an array of plush navy blue blankets and feather down pillows. Books had been thrown from their bookshelves, make up was scattered everywhere, and Kathryn and Piper stood at opposing sides of the room. Kathryn's face was streaked with tears and mascara and Piper was looking awfully sorry for herself.

The attacking words had from the former, who had now succumbed to yet another fit of blubbering. Jessamine simply sat on her bed and watched the madness, filing her nails as she did. She caught my eye as I walked into the room and bolted up from the bed.

"Oh thank goodness!" she cried with more relief than I was expecting. "Rose, please, you have to talk some sense into the pair of them. They're acting like thirteen year olds!"

"Thirteen year olds?" screeched Kathryn, who had not quite recovered from her sobbing. "The only person acting like a thirteen year old is that witch over there!" She pointed an accusing finger at her (I'm assuming former) best friend. Piper, upon being pointed at, reddened.

I closed the dormitory door behind me rather dumbfounded. While Kathryn was usually caught up in some drama or another, it was not often that the accusing fingers were being pointed at any of us in the dorm. Despite housing six sixteen year old girls, we usually got along somewhat well.

"I told you!" Piper plead back, attempting to walk towards Kathryn. She was stopped in her tracks as another book flew through the air, narrowly missing her head and smacking one of the four posts of a bed. "It was an accident, I swear! I didn't even know that you liked him!"

Kathryn snorted loudly, partially due to her snotty nose, I'm sure. "Oh, of course, because you don't listen to anyone or care about anyone but your bloody self! I told you that I -"

"You told me you liked a Thomas," Piper said, "You didn't tell me his last name! There are thousands of Thomases in England, Kat!"

"And you just happened to pick mine?" Kathryn was getting incredulous now. She started towards Piper, who with a squeal, jumped up onto the window seat. "How very likely, you self-centred, nasty piece of -"

I was so utterly bewildered at this point and all I wanted to do was go to bed. I still had Jessie hanging off my arm, giving disapproving tuts every so often. After my nightmarish day (read: week) I really was not in the mood.

"Okay, stop!" I had yelled out at them. "Stop it now. This is ridiculous!"

The remaining three pairs of eyes in the room shot towards me, and all of a sudden I regretted opening my mouth. Surely I had enough on my own plate without spooning on Piper/Kathryn turmoil for seconds.

Regardless, I had spoken up now, my mouth had shot itself into the sky and it was my job to attempt to land smoothly.

I cleared my throat. "Neither of you are acting like thirteen year olds -" I ignored Jessie's disgruntled huff, "- but you are acting like idiots."

Both Piper and Kathryn opened their mouths to object, but I put up my hand to quiet them. Their mouths closed.

Surprising, eh? Mediator Rose Weasley - something I could make a living out of!

"You're best friends and having an argument like this in the middle of the night isn't going to solve anything." Oh, look at me go! For someone who is unfortunate enough to have her own life quickly disappearing down the drain, I can be awfully good at conflict management. The pair of them looked at each other, both rather sheepishly even if Kathryn was still blotchy and red.

Now was the time for me to put on Mediator hat and sit down and try to restore some peace and quiet in the dorm. I pointed towards Piper.

"Jessie, sit with Piper," I said. One of her eyebrows shot up and I realized that perhaps she was not so susceptible to my Mediator ways. "Please," I added, for good measure. With a huff, she removed herself from my side and went to sit by the window seat with Piper. In turn, I walked towards Kathryn, took her elbow gently and guided her to a safe distance from her target of assault.

We sat on the edge of my own bed (as much as we could when it was covered in books and clothes), and faced Jessamine and Piper.

"Right," I began. Or, well, I didn't actually know where to begin. Perhaps I was not so prepared for this mediator role as I had thought. I racked my brain for where to go from here. "Right… well…" I was stalling now. Probably not a great look.

What exactly did people do in situations like this? I wasn't used to girlfriend fights - Bea and I might have had our grumbles here and there, but I don't think we had ever had a proper argument. I was used to arguing with boys - mostly Malfoy - but that wasn't quite the same thing.

Piper, Jessie and Kathryn all continued to watch me expectantly. Oh, bugger it.

"Right," I said, for the third time making myself look like a complete loon. "Kathryn - why don't you tell me your side of the story? And meanwhile, Piper, you just listen and then you'll get a chance to tell me yours."

Both of them opened their mouths to protest, but Jessamine's quick squeeze of Piper's hand seemed to silence things on that end. Kathryn, however, continued.

"Well, it's simple really," she spat, her eyes shooting daggers towards her (ex?) friend. "Piper Prewett is a complete and utter slag and can't keep her hands to herself! Even though she knows how I feel about him!"

"Excuse me, but -" Piper had begun to talk, but once again was silenced by a sharp look from my direction.

"It's Kathryn's turn. Kathryn, continue."

Kathryn sucked in a huge breath, puffing out her chest as she did. "I told Piper on the train on the way back to school that I had met a nice boy called Thomas - a Seventh Year -"

"There are plenty of Seventh Years called Thomas!"

"Piper, be quiet." I ran a hand down Kathryn's back in attempt to be comforting. I don't think it worked the way she looked at me as if I'd grown a second head. I cleared my throat and dropped my hand. "Go on."

"Anyway, we had had such a lovely summer. It was truly like something out of a romance novel, and…"

If I'm being honest, I was much too exhausted to listen to her metaphoric rendition of Summer Nights from Grease, and didn't really pay attention. It must have gone on for at least a minute or so because when I zoned back into the conversation, Piper was as bright as a beacon in indignation and Kathryn had started to cry again.

"... and it was so perfect and she went and wrecked it all!" Another accusatory finger in Piper's direction.

Honestly, all this finger pointing made me feel like I was on a terrible relationship-based talk show. In a minute, I'd have to employ some of the Sixth Year boys to come and act as security guards for when things got too rowdy.

"Okay, I see," I said, nodding. I took a moment to reach across to my tissue box and produce a number of them for Kathryn to blow her nose on. Which she did. Loudly. While she did this, I turned to Piper and Jessamine and offered a diplomatic smile. "And what is your version of the story, Piper?"

Beside me Kathryn snorted sarcastically, but thankfully did nothing else. Piper, shifting in her indignation, cleared her throat.

"Well, what Kathryn said is true. But what she didn't say was that other than the fact that his name was Thomas and that he was a Seventh Year, I had no other information given to me whatsoever! How was I supposed to know it was the same bloke?"

"That's such a lie! I told you everything about him! What he looked like, what star sign he was -"

"Oh, come on Kat, as if anyone has time to pay attention to you when you drivel on like that!"

"Best friends should have the time!" Kathryn screeched to this.

Piper rolled her eyes in return. "Yeah, well it's a full time job being your best friend. Maybe you, as a 'best friend' should start being more considering and shut up every once and awhile."

"Oh, you stupid -"

Okay, I had had enough of this. I was wrong to think this was ever going to be a good idea. I was not equipped nor qualified for these sort of dramatics. And Jessamine wasn't helping in the slightest when she continued to give Piper agreeable nods and muttering things into her ear.

Huff. I was tired. I wanted my bed.

"Well, what would fix this situation, Kathryn?" I tried, secretly praying that the answer might just be that it could fix itself.

She sniffed hard. "Nothing. Nothing can fix my broken trust. Prewett is practically dead to me as she is an awful excuse for a friend."

It was Piper's turn to gasp, but this time I could see she was legitimately hurt at Kathryn's dig. "Dead to you? Well, you self-entitled, self-centered, spoilt cow, you can bugger off! Good luck finding someone else that will put up with your crap all the time!"

"Fine!" Kathryn snapped, retreating from my own bed and throwing herself on hers. "But let it be known that I am not talking to you, Prewett! Our friendship is over."

With a dramatic flourish, she yanked her bed curtains closed, and for the first time that evening, the dormitory was silent.

Jeez, girls eh?

"Are you okay, Piper?" Jessamine asked, looking to Piper who was still perched on the window seat. I hadn't noticed, but Piper was the one whose eyes had now welled with tears. She nodded to Jessamine, biting her lip hard, before rather hurriedly disappearing into the bathroom with a decided slam of the door.

I looked at Jessamine and sighed hopelessly. She rolled her amber eyes and returned to filing her nails, while the room was still a complete shambles.

Well, I suppose I was the one who was tidy this all up.

Typical!

I work so hard to keep the peace and I'm rewarded with chores. That's it - this mediating nonsense is certainly not for me. That was certainly short lived.

Why does one even bother?

Saturday 9th September

7:42am

Hang on. Where in Merlin's beard is Bea?

I am being awfully self-absorbed at the moment that my own flailing attempts at keeping myself afloat have occupied me so much that I didn't even notice her absence in the dormitory last time. I thought she had just gotten up before me, but I remember that she wasn't present for the Donahue/Prewett showdown. I mean, thank God - I don't think Bea's snarky remarks could have helped the situation.

But still, where on earth could she be? It definitely was not like her to spend the night away from bed. She didn't have any potential suitors I knew about. Good luck to them if she does, though. Nah - it wouldn't be that.

This is puzzling.

Saturday 9th September

8:03am

I didn't have to be puzzled for long. Or at least, Bea reappeared. Without explanation, of course, but what she reappeared with distracted me from asking.

"Get up," she instructed. Along with her words, there was a heavy weight dropped rather rudely on my stomach. Ouch. I squinted up at her and wriggled up to sit against my pillows. Atop my torso sat my Quidditch uniform, along with my broom.

I let out a groan. "No, Bea. You know that Bran won't let me play." I attempted to hide back under the covers, but this proved more difficult than I had expected when my uniform and broom was in the way.

She tutted one of her infamous tuts, and grabbed the duvet away from. Why? Had Bea not the decency to read my previous list of reasons why it was perfectly UNACCEPTABLE for me to leave bed today? Why can't a girl just be left in peace to drown in her sorrows and accept her fate as a pretend-pregnant-to-a-prat harlot?

Because she has stubborn mates, that's why.

"Fenwick is going to let you play," Bea informed, matter-of-factly.

"Didn't you hear my rant at dinner last night? He thinks I'm preggers, up the duff, with child." I shot her a pointed look and tried my best to look as pathetic as possible. It probably wasn't hard. I am the poster child for tragedy.

But my looks wouldn't work on her. "He's going to let you play," she repeated. She didn't go on, which I very much wanted her to, but I was too tired to press on. Just let me stay in bed. "Come on," she prompted again. "You're going to be late."

Maybe he'd had a change of heart and had decided that in the early trimesters it was quite possibly for a pregnant person to play Quidditch. After all, Aunt Ginny had played until well into her second when she was pregnant with James. Nevertheless, I chose not to subject myself to another stern word from Beatrice and began gathering my things.

Because it was a Saturday, nobody else was awake. For that, I had to say I was thankful. My mediocre mediating skills had been tapped out, I'm afraid, and another incident between Piper and Kathryn might have sent me straight back to bed.

Today was going to be truly, truly horrific. Not only do I have to go to Quidditch practice (though I am grateful that I'm still allowed, at least for now), I have to face breakfast. Being a Saturday, it will be quieter than usual, so I suppose there's that.

Sigh. Woe is me.

"I'm giving you ten minutes to shower and get dressed then I'm going to breakfast without you," Bea said, now occupying my own bed with a copy of Friendfyre (her favourite activist magazine). Well, that was me told. At least I'd have someone to hold my hand during the ordeal.

Like I said, woe is me.

Saturday 9th September

11:39am

Something odd has happened.

And when I say something odd, I mean something completely and utterly mystifying.

I am thoroughly surprised, and with my life like it is, it takes a lot for that to happen. At least, it takes a lot for it to be pleasant surprise.

But…

Oh, I just don't even know.

Saturday 9th September

11:42am

List of things that have been pleasant surprises, date: 09/09:

1) Breakfast wasn't a complete nightmare.

I'm not quite sure what I expected.

Maybe I thought it would be like a scene out of The Scarlet Letter. All eyes would be on me as silence befell the Great Hall, and I would to the Ravenclaw table like walking to my execution block. The odd Third Year boy might have called out a jeer. Maybe girls would shake their heads and tut under their breaths.

I don't know, but whatever I was expecting, I was had thoroughly thought wrong.

Breakfast was completely and utterly normal. Well, I mean, it was early on a Saturday so it was much quieter than usual with half the school population opting to sleep in until noon. Not everybody had to face the grueling prospect of a nine o'clock Quidditch practice. But still, there was no hushed whispering, no pointed stares - it seemed that life had continued to go on around me and no one could care less about my presence.

And this made me feel…

I don't know. Disappointed? No, well, not disappointed exactly but I was a little put out that I'd worked myself up all this time for absolutely nothing! Especially when the rumour mill had proved so efficient in its handy work over the past two days. Maybe it was just that everyone was too tired - or in the Seventh Years' cases hungover - that their own problems were more worthy of a thought than mine.

Still - I was a potentially pretend-pregnant-to-a-prat! Surely that warranted some sort of scandalized reaction when I walked into a room? I almost wanted the negative attention, just to show to Bea that my earlier dramatics were completely warranted.

Now I just looked like a bit of a plonker.

To prove this, Bea gave me a knowing smile as she sat next to me at the breakfast table. She didn't say anything straight away, occupying herself with a glass of Pumpkin Juice. I was too busy looking suspiciously around the Hall to bother serving myself; I was waiting for the next bomb to drop.

"Oh pack it in," Bea said good-naturedly, and began spooning scrambled eggs onto my plate. "It's just breakfast. You're acting as if someone's going to jump you."

I looked at her and frowned. "Everyone is acting… normally."

"Well, yes Rose, I hate to inform you but the world does not in fact revolve around your and Scorpius' little arguments," she said matter-of-factly. She pushed my plate in front of me, now filled with eggs, mushrooms and fried tomatoes.

Indignant as I was at the thought of her thinking I was that self-obsessed, I was too confused (and possibly just a little paranoid) that something awful was about to happen. Looking at how to rest of my week had panned out, it wasn't terribly unlikely.

"Everyone seemed to be quite interested in them yesterday," I pointed out. Merlin, Hogwarts food was quite literally a godsend. I don't know what they do with their fried tomatoes (balsamic maybe?) but they were always so delicious, and even better than my Granny Weasley's (sorry, Gran!). After chewing a mouthful of eggs, I added, "Including Bran. And speaking of, why exactly am I suddenly deemed physically fit enough to play?"

"Someone must have had a word with him," was all she would say.

But who? It was clear after our conversation last night Scorpius was not the culprit, and Albus - one of the only other logical possibilities - was still holidaying in the land of Let's-Ignore-Rose. Whoever it was, I was very thankful. Maybe they were also the reason everyone was carrying on about their day without giving me a second look.

Thanks, Mr/Mrs Enigma, you're quite the gem!

Munching on my tomatoes and eggs, I let my gaze wander around the Hall again, attempting to weed out any potential masked knights-in-shining-armour. Instead, I just ended finding the toad who'd gotten me in this situation in the first place.

Scorpius sat at the Gryffindor table, sans Albus, with a book in his hand. I would have had to squint to tell you what it was, but I could make an educated guess. Scorpius, like myself, was all about classics and had a particularly penchant for ancient civilisations. His favourite book was the Iliad - a bad choice in my opinion, and the reading equivalent of watching paint dry. But, he loved it and read it at least twice a year.

As he was flicking through the pages of his book, I wanted to see if I could figure out what sort of mood he was in. Had the rumours been affecting him at all? Had he even noticed the change in attention this morning? Not likely, as he rarely notices anything going on outside of his own head.

How on earth could I ever have been friends with such a tosspot? Even looking at him was enough to send me into angered hives! Perhaps that was what was wrong. Maybe I was allergic to him.

What is that people do when they're allergic to something? Avoid it at all costs? Well, other than having the unfortunate fate of sharing more than a few classes with him, I'm sure that was achievable. I'd been attempting to do it since December and up until earlier this week was doing a grand job. That would surely appease Albus too.

I looked like I'd been given a clean slate in all this rumour business and I should be taking advantage of that. I will try to, once again, harness my inner zen energies, practice complete calmness and eradicate all negativity from my life. That includes the likes of him.

Zen people have great lives. They have good karma, good skin, and don't get themselves all muddled up in childish nonsense like hexing people out of the blew. Zen people, I'm sure, don't get detentions either.

The pros of this completely outweigh the cons. I might actually get Albus back as my friend too! That is certainly a positive.

Maybe I should start meditating? I could practice humming under my breath whenever Professor Shafiq's voice gets too much to bear. Next Hogsmeade, I might go into the shop that sells incense and trinkets and see if I can get myself a pair of nifty yoga trousers. Being Zen is all about comfort, you know.

I could definitely do this. In fact, I was doing it right now. With a mouth full of food, it was hard to suppress my smile. And why should I? I was on the track to complete calm and collected happiness and the world should know it! No more taking Rose Weasley for granted, no more throwing her under the bus with ridiculous rumours! This girl was starting afresh and there was nothing that could keep her down.

It's decided - Project Eliminate Negativity is now a go.

2) Quidditch practice went well.

Wait, no, that's definitely an understatement because Quidditch practice went brilliantly. I had armoured myself up in my uniform awaiting leers and mocking from my teammates (mostly expected from Selwyn) and held my head high as I marched into battle. I'm sure that they at least would have some teasing words for me. But I didn't need to. In fact, no one said a single word about my upcoming labours. They all greeted me as they usually did, Bran (Sex God extraordinaire in a Quidditch uniform, by the way) started his briefing and practice went on as per every other Quidditch practice I've ever attended. And I couldn't understand why.

Not that I was going to argue with the fact or make matters worse by asking someone why no one was walking around me as if on eggshells. No, I simply fell into my usual role and, all in all practiced, very hard. It was quite easy to focus now that I was a practicing Zen queen. Our team was particularly good this season too. I'd say it was down to the the late addition (as of January) of Cameron Muldoon as beater, but we all fit together like a sporty little jigsaw puzzle. Brilliant indeed!

But, I suppose there was one slightly awkward moment at the end of the practice. To be honest, I'm still trying to wrap my head around it. Even being a Zen queen can't help me figure this one out.

I had landed my broom already and was peeling off my gloves when Bran decided to plop himself right next to me, giving me an awful fright. I'd be avoiding speaking to him directly all morning following our disastrous conversation in Herbology, but it seemed like he'd caught up to me.

Oh, Merlin, he was so dreamy. So, so, so dreamy. In fact, almost so dreamy that one could forget how mortifying our previous conversation had been. I wanted to marry him and have six hundred of his brown haired beautiful children. I mean, it's not like they were going to get my red-haired gene and have their lives ruined for ever.

"Good practice today, Rose," he said, giving me one of his devilishly handsome grins. Honestly, if my feet hadn't been already planted firmly off the ground, I might have fallen from my broom to an inevitable death. They should put a warning label on smiles like that.

I returned his smile, albeit shakily. "Thanks. Though I can hardly say it was all me. Natalie's spacing skills have really improved over the break."

He nodded in agreement. "Absolutely." He paused there and chewed on the corner of his lip, and for a moment I had the horrifying feeling that our conversation in Herbology was about to resurface. No time for that, I'm afraid!

"Right, well," I said hurriedly, quickly picking my broom off the ground. "I better get -"

"Just wait a second," he said, as he crouched down to my level. He was inches away from my face and by Merlin, did he not just have the most gorgeous eyes? Even if Bran got into some horrific accident that made him have to wear a full cloak at all times, and you could only see his eyes, he would still be ever as beautiful as he was now.

I had to remember to breathe. "Mm?" I somewhat choked out.

"I just, uh… I wanted to apologise. For yesterday afternoon."

Well, really, you should be. Carrying on like I could actually have been pregnant and to an absolute incorrigible pig at that! Honestly, Bran, while you are positively dishy you can be a bit thick sometimes.

Before I could even mouth a protest or a reply or whatever one responds to a statement like that, his eyes were not so close to my own anymore and he was on his feet. "Hoping we're good from now on."

Hang on. I couldn't tell what exactly he was apologising for. Was he apologising because he realized he would have to be barking mad to believe that I was actually pregnant? Or was he apologising for jumping the gun and taking me off the team too early? I had no idea. I had no idea about anything in this place anymore.

Why are people so bloody complicated? In the spirit of Zen, I have decided that it is very important to be completely transparent at all times. No secrets as secrets harbour bad feelings and can disrupt the inner peace. Honestly, I wish I could read his mind because then at least I'd understand where on earth he gets his ideas from!

With a quick pat on my shoulder - he does love touching my shoulders doesn't he? - he promptly turned and left me to my bewilderment.

Why is it that boys are so skilled at doing that? Particularly good-looking boys.

No, no, no. I was going to get myself all tizzied up again and that's no good for the cool and calm collected persona I am now encompassing. Breathe, Rose, breathe.

I'm sure I'll figure it out. Sooner or later.

3) Albus is talking to me again.

Sort of.

But honestly, if a quiet word and a nod in the hallway is all I can get at the moment then so be it. This is probably the longest he's gone without talking to me ever. It's getting a bit unbearable. Who else is going to do my DADA questions for me? Bea won't, because she's annoying like that, but Albus was always up for it.

Maybe this Zen business is starting to work - and quickly too!

I should write a book. Really, I should! Regaining Your Life Through Zen: From Humiliating to Humming by Rose M. Weasley. That has such a great ring to it. I mean, I am a master at the Zen clearly. It's only taken a few hours and my life is already looking significantly more promising! I might not have to throw myself off of the Astronomy Tower after all.

It was eleven o'clock and I'd finally managed to wash the smell of broom polish out of my hair and I was wandering aimlessly back towards my Common Room. My conversation with Bran and the lack of frightful experiences at breakfast had left me feeling quite dazed. I was trying very, very, very hard not to overthink things (not Zen-like at all) and to just carry on with my day as it was, but I still couldn't help myself getting wrapped up in my thoughts.

Bran Fenwick was possibly the most confusing creature on earth. It was one thing to admire him from a distance, but it was another to talk to him in person. Who'd have thought that whenever he spoke I'd end up completely lost? Not me. I had been imagining much prettier happenings - fireworks exploding, flower petals falling from the sky, all that kind of jazz.

But no, I just ended up getting myself into a right mess.

It was whilst battling between letting myself get caught up in this mess in my head and practicing my inner calm when a familiar voice spoke out.

"You alright there, Ro?"

Forget about my internal warfare, that voice scared the absolute trousers off of me. I jumped and blinked hard at the figure who was looking at me concerned.

Albus' head was tilted at the side, his eyes scanning my body. "Seriously, Rose, are you okay?"

I stared blankly at him. Huzzah! Words from the previously silent mouth. I didn't know whether to punch him or hug him.

"Y-Yeah," I said, clearing my throat. "I'm okay."

His lips pursed together a little awkwardly. "You looked lost in your thoughts that's all."

"I was."

The exchange was so tense that I felt it draining my newly acquired Zen and calm away. (Nooo! Must remain collected, must retain inner peace.) Albus and I sort of looked at each other for a very long time, and I didn't know what to say to fill the silence. It's not like I could apologise anymore - that's not what he wanted.

What he wanted was something I couldn't give. He wanted to go back to how we all were last year without feeling the need to stand between Malfoy and I as we attempt to tear each other apart. And that did make me sad. Of course I didn't like making Albus feel like he had to choose between us. It's not like I was making him.

But regardless of how we came to this point, I was still very glad he was speaking to me again.

"How are you?" I asked, offering him a small smile. It was a forced question, and not something we usually asked each other (we usually just knew), but part of being Zen involves diplomacy and small talk. I might as well start practicing on him.

Al shrugged. "'Right, s'pose. What about you?"

"Well, I'm not pregnant, if that's what you'd heard," I joked, hoping some humour might bring at least half a smile to his face. Instead, he was just looking at me in a very controlled, unreadable manner. Not fair when my face was a consistent open book.

"Yeah, well you'd have to be an idiot to actually believe that rubbish."

Oh thank Circe! I was wrong before in thinking the entire school was certifiably mad! At least my trusty cousins (or at least one of them) have sensible heads on their shoulders. And maybe it was because of this sensible head that there were no more rumours going around!

I smiled at him hopefully. "Was it you that stopped them then?"

"Stopped what?"

"The rumours about me carrying Malfoy's dev - I mean, child."

Al shook his head and frowned. "No. It wasn't me." He sort of wriggled a bit awkwardly on the spot. "I better go though. I have to finish that Potions essay."

I hated being like this. He nodded at me by way of saying goodbye before hurrying down the corridor like he couldn't get rid of me fast enough. I just wanted to be normal again and to be friends. As much as he said he wasn't choosing between Malfoy and I, he had clearly chosen the former.

I wanted to get angry about it. I wanted to kick and shout and call him unfair because we're family and that's not what family to do each other. But - as my inner Zen queen reminded me - he was talking to me again, albeit it being awkward and very short lived. It was a start.

Maybe it was like the time when we were all in Fourth Year and Albus had a mighty big crush on Jessamine Su, but me, being the loudmouth that I am, couldn't quite resist telling her over a game of Truth or Tickle. It was a magical take on the traditional Muggle Truth or Dare, but instead of being able to choose dare you had to choose a Tickling Hex over telling the truth. We all obviously went took the honest route.

Albus didn't speak to me for two whole days (which was one less than he managed this time). I thought we were never going to speak again, and I even wrote my Aunt Ginny asking her to force him to forgive me. She didn't though - she simply sent me back a polite but pointed letter saying that perhaps I should stop letting my mouth getting carried away with itself.

Sage advice that I have yet to follow.

He finally broke his silence when I snuck into Hogsmeade and bought him a giant box of Zonko's goodies and a bag of Liquorice Lice, but for some reason I didn't think material bribery was going to work in my favour this time.

But at least I got something out of him. It wasn't the perfect conversation nor the perfect forgiveness, but it's a start and I'll run with that for now.

I mean, honestly - how much longer could he actually hold out on me?

(I don't know if I want an answer to that or not.)

Saturday 9th September

6:45pm

Even I have to admit that today went better than I ever expected. I mean, it had its ups and downs and I'm still completely confused about my exchange with Bran, but at least the desire to hide in my bed has finally waned.

Now I'm just sitting here stuck on my Potions essay (something Albus' conversation with me kindly reminded me that I still had to start). Professor Shafiq is a raving loon sometimes - the topic of this essay is surely not something we will be studying until at least third term. I'm sure this would be easier to understand if I actually had a read of my textbook, but at the moment I am just too lazy.

Bea won't help me either - she's disappeared again. It's highly suspicious, you know. She's always back in the Common Room after dinner. Merlin forbid she ever hand in assignment late, so she tends to get them done and dusted days in advance. I, on the other hand, much prefer the leave-it-until-you're-in-such-a-panic-it-has-to-be-done method.

Describe the catalyst reaction that eel heart creates when combined with powered Asphodel - explain using at least three descriptors.

I mean, really - eel heart is barely used in any potion and it hasn't been used in anything we've studied so far! How am I supposed to know what it looks like when mixed with asphodel? I'm not like Bea where I spend my summer break pretty much completing the year's syllabus in advance.

And how are we supposed to write two feet on this? Three descriptors? I could bullet point those and be done with it! Does he constantly have to be such a sadist and drag these things out? It's not fair you know. He does this to weed out the lazy ones in the first term (first week!) when everyone is still trying to get out of their post-summer haze. No other Professors are quite this demanding. Professor Nordstrom, despite being spectacularly dull, didn't give homework until at least week three.

Dum, dum, de dum… Eel heart… Asphodel… Blah, blah, blah.

Oh this is just so boring. Nobody else interesting is in the Common Room either, and Merlin forbid I enter the conflict zone that is the dormitory. Piper and Kathryn are still very much at odds and Jessamine isn't helping the situation at all. Miriam is doing her best to ease the tension but the poor thing looks absolutely wrecked in trying. Poor poppet, she doesn't know when to surrender and just leave them to kill each other.

Bran isn't in the Common Room either which is a mighty shame. Not that I would talk to him - I'm still reeling a bit from earlier today - but at least it would have been a nice view. I must somehow find out what sort of conditioner he uses on his hair because it is enviously soft looking. Not that I've touched it (ha, I wish!) but it is always so tempting to do so.

He does have a fantastic bum as well. I'm not even going to pretend to be ladylike about the fact. One of my favourite Common Room games is counting how many times I can catch him tending to the fire, just to get a glimpse. It's true, it seems I am a objectifying pervert. Bea and Mum would die on the spot if they knew.

Do you know what I could write an essay about? The many attributes that Bran Fenwick possesses that prove him to be the most gorgeous boy to grace these halls. Forget about Albus and Scorpius (ew, and ew), Bran is where the standards are at.

Describe the catalyst reaction that Bran Fenwick creates when in a room with Rose Weasley - explain using at least three (more like thirty!) descriptors.

1) His beautiful hair. Tall, dark and handsome is a cliche for a reason, you know.
2) Those absolutely dreamy eyes. Sigh.
3) When his jaw does that jumpy thing when he's concentrating.
4) His skin! Merlin knows that boy must have the strictest skincare routine known to man because it is flawless (if not a bit sun-kissed).
5) His voice. Besides the time during Third and Fourth year where it would crack everytime he'd yell a warning for a Bludger in Quidditch, Bran's voice could lull me into a comfortable sleep in minutes.
6) Despite being stupidly gullible about the fact that I'd gotten myself pregnant, he was awfully nice about it. And so concerned! He is a super, super lovely person which combined with his dishy physical features makes him all around quite perfect.

I could go on and on and on for years except there are now a giggling group of Third Years that are being awfully annoying and distracting my Bran-filled dream world. Times like this were when I needed Bea to pop on her Prefect hat and give them a telling off. But alas, I am a mere Sixth Year and while you'd think thirteen year olds could have some respect for their elders, they unfortunately do not.

I wonder if it's safe to breach the dorm yet… Bea's not back and I kind of need her to make it bearable. The fighting tends to stop when she walks in.

Hmm. Decisions…